Chapter 13
Vorik tried not to feel triumphant as Princess Syla settled astride Agrevlari in front of him, offering directions on how to find the farm where her aunt resided, but it seemed like the general’s plan might actually work.
Syla was going off with him. Alone. There were no soldiers protecting her and no scowling bodyguard to threaten Vorik if he touched her or even smiled at her.
Which, after the battle at the lighthouse, she might not mind as much.
Maybe Vorik had a chance of gaining her trust, enough to fulfill his orders.
At first, there was space between them on Agrevlari’s back, and Vorik didn’t presume to scoot close, but when the big green dragon bunched his muscles and sprang into the air, Syla slid backward.
She let out a startled exclamation, leaning forward and clasping one hand to her face to keep her spectacles in place while trying to find a spot to grab on a dragon’s back.
As Vorik well knew, there wasn’t one, only the slight creases between the scales. It took strong and agile fingers to make a handhold out of them.
As Agrevlari ascended, his back tilted enough that Syla slid farther, only stopping when she bumped into Vorik.
His leg muscles were practiced at tightening just so to remain in place on a dragon, and he didn’t budge, only acting as a wall for her.
A wall who abruptly noticed the feel of her weight settling between his thighs, the way her backside molded to him.
She stiffened, doubtless not wanting to be so intimately close to him, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her snugly against his chest.
“I won’t let you fall,” he said quietly instead.
She eyed the ground as Agrevlari climbed higher into the sky. “I don’t know if this is better than dangling from Wreylith’s maw or not.”
“There aren’t any fangs around you.”
“No, but—”
Agrevlari banked to turn inland, and his back tilted slightly sideways.
When Syla stiffened again in alarm, Vorik gave in to his earlier urge and wrapped his arms around her. He kept his grip light, not wishing to alarm or offend her, but tight enough so that she would feel safe.
Tension radiated from her body, and he decided not to ask if his arms were more or less appealing than Wreylith’s fangs. It wouldn’t be encouraging if she said less.
As Agrevlari straightened again, Syla relaxed an iota. She even leaned back a little, more of her weight settling against Vorik, her buttocks against his thighs, her back against his chest, wisps of hair that had escaped her clips brushing his nose.
Damn, that was appealing. He fought down the urge to wrap his arms tightly around her instead of lightly, and he definitely didn’t let his hands roam, though they might be able to distract her from her worries…
to soothe her concerns. Or maybe she would find his touch more stimulating than soothing. Might it arouse her carnal interests?
He rolled his eyes, telling himself not to take advantage of her. That wasn’t a way to win her trust. He would simply enjoy this moment, having her warm curves pressed appealingly against his body. And maybe she would come to appreciate him behind her, as well.
Though, judging by the way Syla kept glancing nervously at the ground far below, she probably was barely aware of him behind her, much less appreciating him.
Unless one counted their extremely brief jaunt around the castle courtyard, this was likely only her second time flying with a dragon.
Since the first had involved being carried in Wreylith’s jaws and dropped, her nervousness was quite understandable.
“Agrevlari,” Vorik said, “is a mature dragon and rarely prone to impulsive rolls and dives—unless he spots one of his favorite prey in the waves below, a fang-toothed walrus—so he’s generally a smooth ride.
But even if he does take off after something, I’m practiced at staying on and will keep you in place. ”
Vorik didn’t mention that the magic he received through his bond with Agrevlari gave him, among other powers, the ability to adhere, almost like glue, to a dragon’s back.
Even though it was possible the gardeners already knew about his magic, and there was no point in wearing the gloves that hid his dragon tattoo, he, like most of the others of his kind that were so marked, didn’t announce his power to strangers. And only rarely to friends and lovers.
“Good,” Syla said, looking back, “because I’m planning to grab onto you in any and every way I can if I start to lurch sideways.”
“You’re welcome to do so any time you wish.” Vorik, finding her response somewhat promising, tried his devastating smile on her. “I enjoy being grabbed by beautiful women.”
A startled flash in her eyes suggested it wasn’t the time for flirting. Her earlier suspicion stampeded in behind it.
“My apologies,” Vorik said. “I should have realized it wasn’t an appropriate time to be playful.”
“No. And I’m not…” She shook her head.
Interested? That would make seducing her difficult.
Vorik’s ego was such that he also had a hard time believing she didn’t find him even remotely attractive, but if she associated him with the devastation to her people…
he supposed he understood. Women, he’d learned over the years, seemed to link their attraction far more strongly with feelings.
He, on the other hand, could feel desire and long even for an enemy, even for someone he knew he should stay away from.
Maybe women were brighter in that respect.
“Nothing is going to happen between us,” Syla finally settled on.
The suspicion lingered in her gaze as she turned her face away from him, focusing on the countryside below as full daylight came over the island, revealing agricultural fields inland from the city.
And were those dragons atop some of the barns, with stormers filling bags and boxes with produce?
Yes, Vorik’s keen eyes could identify them. He hoped Syla’s gaze wasn’t as sharp.
“That’s understandable,” Vorik said, then lowered his voice to murmur, “if regrettable.”
He thought the wind would keep her from hearing the rest, but her puzzled glance back made him wonder if she’d caught it.
She adjusted her spectacles and peered toward fires burning on a farm at the outskirts of the city and shook her head.
And were those tears glinting in her eyes behind the lenses?
Lament seeped into him. He shouldn’t have attempted to flirt or even be thinking of sex.
“Even if I thought you had some… interest in me,” Syla said quietly, “it would be a betrayal to my people—my family—to have anything to do with you.”
“I understand. It’s important to honor one’s family, whether they yet live or not.”
“Yes.”
“And it’s always hard to lose kin.” Vorik thought of his deceased father and a brother he’d also lost several years earlier. And then there was Jhiton’s son. There had been Jhiton’s son. Vorik had adored his little nephew, and he understood perfectly the angst that motivated Jhiton now.
“Yes,” was all Syla said, her damp-eyed gaze toward the fields below.
Do you wish me to fly farther than is necessary, Agrevlari asked, to reach the destination the princess gave to me?
I don’t think so. Why do you ask?
You have not yet engaged in activities that I’ve come to recognize as necessary for human intercourse.
Ah. That’s not going to happen for a while. Vorik kept himself from saying, if it happens at all.
Most likely, he would need to seduce Syla eventually. For his mission. This just wasn’t yet the time. Even if her body might have been receptive, her mind wasn’t, and he didn’t want her to resent him. Or herself. She had enough to worry about.
Are you certain? She is leaning back into you, much as Lieutenant Avarzy used to before you engaged in coitus. On my back, I’ll remind you, as if I were a dumb horse with no feelings on the matter.
I’ve apologized many times for what I didn’t realize at the time was an insult. You and I were newly bonded. To me, having sex on the back of a flying dragon seemed exotic and appealing.
It is neither for the dragon.
I understand that now. Do you want me to write another ballad about your magnificence to apologize for my egregious behavior? I was only twenty-two then, you know. Quite ignorant and naive.
You may always serenade me with ballads. Shall I fly a scenic lap around that butte before taking you down, or not? I can pretend uncertainty of the area.
This is her home. She might get suspicious if you—
Agrevlari banked, and Syla slipped sideways a bit, prompting Vorik to tighten his arms around her again. She nestled back into his grip, not as stiff as she had been before.
You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Vorik asked.
Certainly. Human women find you and your musculature appealing. I am helping you use that to your advantage. Perhaps you should sing a ballad to her while you gently hold her so.
I don’t think she’s in the mood for that.
Syla sneaked a finger up under her lens to wipe tears from her eyes.
No, she was not in the mood to be serenaded.
“Were you close to your older kin?” Vorik asked, wondering how insurmountable a task lay ahead. And also hoping that Agrevlari would stop giving advice if Vorik was engaged in another conversation.
“Not as close as they were to each other—I was a surprise child born seven years after my parents had decided not to have more kids—but I loved my older brothers and sisters.”
“I regret that you were hurt, that they were taken from you.”
She didn’t look back at him. She probably didn’t believe him—or care if he had regrets or not.
“I lost my father in a battle with your Royal Fleet,” Vorik offered. “I was young then, and my older brother took care of me afterward, but it was hard on both of us. We’d both wanted to grow up to be just like him. He was a rider and a great warrior.”